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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22886098">Modesty</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaoro/pseuds/VirtualCarrot'>VirtualCarrot (Kaoro)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf tumblr ficlets [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:14:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22886098</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaoro/pseuds/VirtualCarrot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wasn’t really surprised to find Derek undressing in front of him without a care for his presence. It didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf tumblr ficlets [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643803</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>159</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Modesty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>originally posted here https://virtualcarrot.tumblr.com/post/41133862842/his-skin-sticky-with-sweat-and-dirt-stiles with companion fanart piece</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His skin was sticky with sweat and dirt when Stiles stumbled inside the house, kicking closed the door his predecessor had left open. He wasn’t really surprised to find Derek already bare-chested in the middle of the living room and in the process of angrily unbuckling his belt. Their clothes reeked after all.</p><p>It didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. He looked away.</p><p>“Dude, grow some fucking modesty, won’t you?” he complained, absently raising a hand for the leather jacket Derek held out. “You couldn’t have waited until you reached the bathroom? It’s right over there!”</p><p>He gestured towards the hallway a few feet away. The leather jacket creaked in his grasp; he rolled his eyes at himself and threw it on the couch behind him. Derek narrowed his eyes at the treatment of his jacket, spared him a short glare and carried on undressing.</p><p>“<em>My house, my rules buddy,</em>” he quoted without taking his eyes off the buttons of his jeans.</p><p>“Oh, haha, you’re a real comedian.”</p><p>Stiles saw Derek bend forward and step out of his pants out of the corner of his eye. He inhaled sharply and shifted, resolutely facing the nearest wall.</p><p>“If we're talking comedy, modesty wouldn’t be half as amusing,” Derek admitted with overly pointed nonchalance. He straightened up and stretched, rolling his shoulders to relax his abused muscles.</p><p>Stiles’ breath hitched in mortification and he tensed all over. He screwed his eyes shut to take a few deep, calming breaths. From the sudden silence in the room, he realized Derek had stopped moving too, picking up on the sudden tension. He swiveled to stare at the older man, shook a closed fist in frustration, let it hang back by his thigh.</p><p>“This isn’t funny!” </p><p>To his credit Derek actually looked surprised and more than a little unsettled.</p><p>“I’m worth more than that. You don’t get to make fun of me for something I never asked for and on which I have absolutely no control! It’s not as if I’m doing it on purpose!”</p><p>Derek blinked and raised his eyebrows in astonishment. He shuffled vaguely over the discarded pants, apparently unsure of the course of action. His shoulders a little hunched, he eventually opted to cross his arms.</p><p>Classic Derek.</p><p>“Are we talking about the same thing here?” he asked at last, his gaze shifty.</p><p>Stiles bit down on his lower lip. Hard. “If we’re talking about how ridiculous it is that I’m attracted to you, then yes,” he snapped.</p><p>Derek had the gall to scowl at that. </p><p>“Oh no you don’t — ” Stiles took a step forward, pissed beyond words.</p><p>“I wasn’t making fun of you,” Derek mumbled, causing him to waver and stop moving.</p><p>Stiles raised an eyebrow and crossed his own arms, mirroring Derek’s posture. </p><p>“Oh, really? Did I make up the part where you said this was a fucking comedy?”</p><p>“Oh my God Stiles, why do you have to be so dramatic?”</p><p>Stiles gaped, torn between utter bewilderment and blinding rage.</p><p>“Seriously, <em> you </em> are calling <em> me </em>dramatic of all — ?”</p><p>Derek threw up his arms. “That’s it!” he exclaimed, his voice taking on the characteristic high pitch their group had learned to associate with Stiles-induced exasperation. “I wasn’t making fun of you, I was trying to find out what it’d take for you to actually act on it!”</p><p>Stiles raised a finger, very intent on arguing. Because that’s what they did: argue. Then he froze, attempted to actually process the information, and went back to gaping. This time for different reasons.</p><p>“You — ? I — ? What?”</p><p>Derek didn’t answer, settled for staring aggressively at the counter on the side of the room. Stiles made a few more aborted attempts at speaking, raised a hand, then a finger, then shook both hands in front of him as if to grab the thought process that was clearly escaping him.</p><p>He dragged a hand through his hair, looked away then back at Derek.</p><p>“Oh my God,” he hissed, disbelieving. “Oh my God Derek, use your <em> words</em>!”</p><p>Derek shifted, kicking the jeans at his feet, and turned his back under the guise of picking up the clothes strewn all over the floor.</p><p>“<em>You </em> use your words,” he muttered.</p><p>“I heard that,” Stiles pointed out of habit, still processing what had just happened.</p><p>His words earned him a seething glance before Derek stood up and shrugged.</p><p>“Are we done here? Because I stink of gnome and I have to shower.”</p><p>He started walking away towards the corridor, paused with his hand on the doorknob.</p><p>“That was an invitation by the way,” he said with a challenging glare. “I’m <em> using my words</em>.”</p><p>Then he slammed the door behind him.</p><p>Stiles stood gobsmacked in the living room for a few moments longer. The sound of the shower’s pouring water shook him out of his stupor and he grinned. With no one to judge him, he might have pranced towards the bathroom.</p><p>He didn’t bother knocking.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>one of the first things I wrote in this fandom which i feel held up surprisingly well to the test of time all things considered. more than the original accompanying fanart</p><p>also : derek's terrible at flirting</p></blockquote></div></div>
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